This is just a oneshot. A little bit of cute, I think. And I don't own the character or the show. Enjoy it!

"The worst fault you have is to be in love."

- As You Like It, William Shakespeare

He stood outside her front door. The air was biting and it was beginning to hurt the tips of his ears and the tip of his nose. His lungs were feeling it too.

Raising a hand snugly fit into a glove, he made a fist and knocked. He waited, unsure as to whether his knock was loud enough since it sounded like quiet thuds to his own ears. But, he couldn't be sure if it really wasn't loud enough or if the wind was interfering with his hearing.

After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Cuddy standing in the thin material of her black nightgown. She held the door open only a few inches and peered out at House. The glow of her home made him feel even colder as he stood on her porch.

"Do you know what time it is?" she hissed at him.

"Eleven?" he guessed, not seeing the problem.

"Exactly," Cuddy replied, her eyebrows drawn. "Some people actually sleep at night."

"It's eleven!" House exclaimed, throwing out his hands. "I know third graders who go to bed later than you."

"Do you?" Cuddy asked, narrowing her eyes. She sighed. "What do you want, House?"

"You're in your nightie." He eyed her up and down.

"I was about to go to bed." Her tone indicated she was not happy with him right now. "Whatever it is, make it quick."

"Aren't you going to let me in?" House glanced into the warmth of her house. "It's bitter cold out, Cuddy."

Cuddy shook her head. "No."

"Well, then forget it." House turned from her.

"You came all this way for me to turn you away at my door." She stared at him.

He turned back to her. "You won't let me in."

"Does this have anything to do with work?" She was tired and she showed it.

He paused, scrunching his face, a personal debate going on within him. The honest answer blurted out. "Of course not."

"Goodbye, House."

Cuddy shut the door and locked it. She padded softly down the hallway to her bedroom, making sure to flick the hall light off. As she entered her bedroom, she pushed all thoughts of House and the reason he was standing outside her front door from her mind. She wouldn't be able to sleep if she thought about him.

She climbed into bed and rested on her back. Cuddy closed her eyes, willing sleep to take over. After a minutes, she flung her eyes back open. She was thinking of House. Throwing the covers from her body, Cuddy left her bed and moved back down the hall.

Pulling open the door, Cuddy shuddered against the cold air. Her eyes looked out over the darkness before falling on House as he sat on her stoop. He looked up at her. She gave him a look and sighed.

"What is it, House?" she asked him. "You... want to inject someone with something that'll probably kill them? Misuse an MRI machine for your own devices? Maybe steal a dead man's ashes and test them in the lab?"

"All great ideas, but no." He grimaced as he forced himself to his feet. "This isn't about work, remember?"

"House..." Cuddy's shoulders drooped.

"Cuddy," House returned.

"The date was cancelled," she told him simply.

"Date?" he repeated, cocking his head to the side.

"I know you knew about it because someone erased it from my palm pilot a week ago." She narrowed her eyes. "You're the only one, besides myself, who knows the password."

"Anyone with an ounce of logic can guess KC and the Sunshine Band, Cuddy," House replied. "It's clear that you like to get down tonight."

She set her jaw. "This is the problem, House. You want me."

"If your head swells anymore, I may have to put it on ice," he quickly said.

"Fine." Cuddy threw her arms in the air. "Deflect with your sarcasm."

House leaned in towards her. "Been talking to Wilson?"

Cuddy pulled back. "You show up at my house when you think I have a date. You erase my social engagements by breaking into my planner. I thought it was going to stop when I called you on it the first time."

"It's always about you, Cuddy, isn't it?" he asked, swinging his cane behind his back.

"What?" Cuddy was confused now. She didn't know how he was always able to throw her off track.

House swung his cane back down. "It's about Thirteen."

"Thirteen?" Cuddy lifted her eyebrows. "One of your tentative team members? You said this didn't have to do with work."

"Doesn't." House shrugged. "I think Thirteen has a sexual attraction to you. You might want to check in to that."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "Only in your dreams, House."

Cuddy disappeared into her house for the second time that night. She closed the heavy door behind her and turned off the porch light.

"Real nice, Cuddy!" House shouted at the door. He pictured her smirking on the other side.

House placed a hand on the door and put his weight on it. He was unaware that Cuddy was peeking through the peephole at him. She reached up and placed a hand on the exact spot his hand was on the other side of the door.

"Goodnight, House," Cuddy whispered too quiet for him to hear, wishing there was no door between them, but not having the courage to open it.

"Goodnight, Cuddy," House said from the other side of the door.

House lowered his hand and sat back down on the stoop. He wasn't ready to go home just yet and he decided to remain there on her porch. And as House sat in the dark, he could still feel the warmth that she emitted. It was enough to keep him there for a few more hours.

Fin.